


the darkest star shining for me majestically

by silveriris



Category: Deus Ex (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Bisexual Male Character, Deus Ex Black Light, Established Relationship, Hand Jobs, Kissing, M/M, spoilers for Human Revolution and the novel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-03-02
Packaged: 2018-09-27 22:58:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10055705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveriris/pseuds/silveriris
Summary: “The whole world thinks you died in Panchaea.”“And you?” Jensen presses. He shouldn’t; not now, not when Pritchard looks like he could crumble under his touch. “What about you?”/ A missing scene from the Black Light novel.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: the story takes place just after Adam gets back to Detroit and Pritchard shows him his new _lair_ in the Rialto movie theatre. Title is from _The darkest_ star by Depeche Mode. It’s a fitting song for these two, I think.

Detroit has changed. A lot, in fact, but Adam doesn’t want to think about it, not yet. He pushes all his question to the back of his mind, walking up to Pritchard’s desk with three plastic cups full of hot noodles he just bought in a small stall near the Rialto movie theatre.

At least he hopes that what they’re about to eat are really noodles.

He puts two cups on the desk where Pritchard sits, the hacker’s eyes glued to one of the monitors surrounding him, and opens the third one. It looks good enough, smells more like plastic than anything else but he’s not going to complain.

“You shouldn’t go out like that,” Pritchard gives him his signature glare. “This is MCB’s territory now. You think they’ll just let you go after you threatened them like that?”

Jensen shrugs, much to the hacker’s annoyance, and sits down on the floor, ignoring the couch. Pritchard accumulated quite a lot of things here, including furniture. It is a mystery how he managed to drag all that here.

“Well of course you don’t care!” Frank scoffs. “Sure, just take on them alone, like you always do, you and your wonderful high tech Sarif augs!”

“When was the last time you ate?” Adam changes the subject before Pritchard can start one of his tirades. As much as he dislikes the irritated way Frank likes to speak to him, he can’t help but smile. It feels familiar, brings back memories of simpler times back when they were both working for Sarif Industries, and bickered almost daily about every little thing. A charade, nothing more, to hide that in reality they did care about each other, in some weird, unexplained way.

“Does it matter?” Pritchard replies, flustered.

_You should take better care of yourself_ , Adam wants to tell him like he did many times before. Instead he offers the hacker a cup of noodles. He did buy three of them, so they can all share a meal together, though Stack’s already asleep, snoring quietly.

“I guess it’s better than that grilled rat your new friend had earlier,” Pritchard sighs.

The noodles taste like plastic. They eat in silence, sitting on the dusty floor near a pile of hijacked computer servers, cables and whatever other tech Frank could get his hands on. Jensen’s gaze flicks around the room. He wouldn’t say that a rundown movie theatre is a good place to live in, but for some bizarre reason it feels like home. Or the closest thing since his own apartment has been surely taken by someone else.

Adam frowns, staring at the cheap plastic cup in his hands. Is he getting sappy or just old?

He turns his head to look at Pritchard, and it’s like his mind only now registers how close the hackers sits to him. Pritchard notices his gaze, their eyes meet, making Adam wonder how much is left of the man he knew, the man he…

“You need to shave,” Pritchard’s fingers brush Adam’s face, put aside few strands of hair. “And get a haircut. You look terrible.”

“Flatterer,” Jensen says jokingly, because it’s easier to pretend it all doesn’t really matter.

His hand lingers on Adam’s face just a beat too long, then the contact is lost as Frank quickly takes his hand back, and looks away, pink blush colouring his cheeks. There’s something like hesitation in Pritchard’s eyes, and without even thinking Jensen reaches out to caress his cheek.

The simple touch it all that takes. It’s as if a wall fell crumbling down, Adam sees it in Frank’s desperate gaze, filled with so much sorrow it’s heart– breaking to look at him.

“The whole world thinks you died in Panchaea.”

“And you?” Jensen presses. He shouldn’t; not now, not when Pritchard looks like he could crumble under his touch. “What about you?”

There’s a pause, the hacker glances away from him, his lips twist into a bitter smile. He looks like a shadow of his former self, the arrogant, sarcastic head of the cyber–security division Jensen used to know. Something changed about him, as if his very soul broke and now Pritchard is desperately trying to stitch it back together.

“I couldn’t… I didn’t want to…” Pritchard stammers. It hurts, hearing how his voice breaks with every word, so Adam moves closer to press their lips together because it’s been too long, so long his mind is devoid of any other thought than the need to touch.

He expects to be pushed away, maybe even yelled at, but that’s not how this new Pritchard reacts. The hacker responds, pressing and urgent, needing connection.

The couch is right there. The silly little tent that serves as Pritchard’s portable bedroom is even closer but every detail is left forgotten when he pushes the hacker down so they’re both lying on the hard floor. There’s a blush on Frank’s face, his eyes are slightly narrowed, hands clutching at Adam’s clothes, and Jensen doesn’t need a social enhancer aug to know what this gaze means.

He leans down but before their lips may meet again, Pritchard stops him, pushing a hand between them.

“What about…” the hacker trails off, glancing in the direction where Stacks decided to sleep on one of the theatre chairs that’s still more or less functional.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s sleeping.” It’s only a half truth. They can’t see him from here, but Jensen sure hopes Stacks is truly asleep. Or else it’s going to get _awkward_ , to say the least.

“I hope so,” Pritchard lets out a sigh. Then his hand is on the back of Adam’s neck and he’s pulling him down so they can finally kiss again.

Adam closes his eyes, overwhelmed by how touch–starved he feels. Pritchard shivers slightly, submitting completely, leaning in as if begging for another caress. His skin is strikingly pale in the darkness surrounding them. With the computer screens as the only source of light, everything has a blueish glow, making the situation feel like a dream.

But it’s not a dream, it’s all so very real Adam wants to laugh and cry at the same time because suddenly nothing seems to matter as much as the man by his side, with eyes as blue as the icy waters that swallowed him after his mission finally ended. Pritchard is so pleasantly warm Adam finally melts and gives in because he missed it all, missed the touch, the feeling of being wanted, being alive.

_You lost weight_ , Jensen idly muses as his hands slide beneath Frank’s shirt to touch the warm skin. In another life they’d have all the time in the world. In another life Prichard wouldn’t have to live in a rundown place like this, trying to survive by doing favours for a street gang.

In another life Pritchard wouldn’t have to waste part of his life mourning the loss of Adam Jensen.

Adam presses their lips together again, desperate to banish all these unwanted thoughts from his mind. Pritchard gasps for breath and tugs on his hair, no sounds of protest coming from him when Jensen’s hand unsnaps his belt. He inhales sharply at the touch, and turns his head breaking the kiss. Adam’s eyes are fixed at Frank’s face, because everything is _oh so_ familiar, he nearly feels a physical ache when he realises how much he missed this man.

Pritchard has his eyes closed shut, lips opening to let out a half swallowed moan. He’s surprisingly quiet for a person who once prompted won’t stop talking. Jensen already knows all that, every possible reaction in many different situations, but it doesn’t stop him from observing with fascination the blush on the man’s face, how he shudders, and how his hips jerk once more before until he lets out a long breath and relaxes.

_If only…_ , Jensen thinks but it’s too afraid to finish the thought, ashamed that he can offer nothing more but fleeting moments of pleasure.

Pritchard’s hands don’t grip Adam’s clothes anymore, resting on his shoulders instead. He presses a kiss to Adam’s temple.

“What about..?”, he whispers, the question hovers in the air.

“I’m good,” Jensen says, reaches out for Pritchard’s hand and lifts it up to kiss his knuckles. In response Frank rolls his eyes.

They should move, the floor seems suddenly too cold and hard, not to mention that if Stacks happens to get up he will see them like this. But it’s as if something was holding Adam down, and he can’t let go, wishing they could stay in the warm embrace forever.

“We should get up,” the hacker says out loud what the rational part of Adam’s brain is thinking.

Pritchard shifts, and Adam reluctantly agrees that it’s best if they end their little reunion before they get discovered. But much to his surprise, instead of getting up Frank wraps his arms tighter around him.

“I thought you’ve had enough of me,” Adam points out though he himself doesn’t dare to move.

“Just give me a moment,” Pritchard says, forcing his voice to sound calm, then adds, pressing his face to the crook of Adam’s neck, his voice quiet and muffled, “Have enough of you? Never.”

**Author's Note:**

> A/N2: I’m not really sure where I was going with this. The ‘reunion’ after Panchaea has been done million times before in way better fics. But still I hope that you can find something about this fic that you like.


End file.
